


Soldier's Coming Home

by arborealstops



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Again, F/F, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Series, and kills her baby, mo writes angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 12:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arborealstops/pseuds/arborealstops
Summary: Never more to be alone when the letter saidA soldier's coming home-Travelin' Soldier, Dixie Chicks





	Soldier's Coming Home

_Our love will never end  
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again_

Claudia Jean Cregg would never admit it, but the only thing that kept her going, during the long months when Kate was on a mission, were the letters. They came, every Monday, usually about two or three, tied together with string, Kate’s precise, formal handwriting spelling out CJ’s name. When she pulled the stack out of her mailbox, she’d smile, carry them to her kitchen, and sit there tracing her name and thinking about Kate, in Pakistan or Korea or South Africa and wonder if Kate dreamed about her, too, when she was gone. 

Truthfully, those letters were the only thing keeping CJ sane when Kate was on a mission, and Kate knew that. She was careful to keep her letters positive, to keep the dangers and horrors out of the narratives she sent home. Even if she was sleeping on a dirt floor, in nothing but rags soiled with mud and blood, her letters only spoke of how she missed home, and how she couldn’t wait to see CJ when she returned. But all the same, CJ worried.

The letters were always like clockwork. Every week, on Monday, a stack of letters arrived in CJ’s mailbox. Usually, Kate was only gone long enough for CJ to get five or six letters, only gone a couple of weeks, just long enough for CJ to worry, but never long enough for CJ to forget the feeling of Kate’s lips against hers, her arms around her waist, or her fingers in her hair. The letters were like clockwork, every Monday that Kate was gone. 

So when Monday, August 7 rolled around, and Kate wasn’t home, and there were no letters, CJ started to worry. She told herself that maybe the letters had gotten misplaced, maybe the USPS was running late. It hadn’t happened since Kate had moved to California with her, hadn’t happened in the three years since they’d gotten married, hadn’t happened… ever. But she told herself that things like that happen, that mistakes happen. Still, she didn’t sleep that night. And Tuesday morning, when she opened her mailbox, and the only things were a copy of Kate’s cooking magazine and something from her bank, CJ finally let herself worry. 

* * *

“Claudia Jean? What are you doing, calling this early? Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?” Abbey’s voice on the other end of the line was surprised, and a little confused, but the familiarity of it nearly brought CJ to tears. 

“Abbey.” She breathed a sigh of relief, but her breath hitched and she knew Abbey caught it when her tone suddenly switched to concern.

“CJ, what’s going on?”

“Abbey, I-” Her voice cracked, but before she could totally lose it, she pushed on. “It’s Kate, she- I didn’t get any letters,” she finally pushed out in a rush. Looking up at the ceiling, she willed the tears in her eyes to dissipate, or evaporate, or just not freaking exist. If there were tears, that meant this was actually happening, and CJ wasn’t ready for that. “Letters come on Mondays, and I didn’t- there weren’t any yesterday, Abbey. Or- or today.”

A soft sigh came over the line. “CJ…”

She broke into sobs. “I don’t know what to do, Abbey. It’s never happened before- every Monday, when she’s gone- I don’t-” This time, when her voice cracked, it broke, and she dissolved into sniffles and choked gasps.

From the other end of the line, Abbey did her best to comfort CJ. “Hey, CJ, it could be anything… you know, I didn’t get my July subscription of _People_ until last Thursday. And Josh swears his letters get lost in the mail, although Donna’s always seem to show up regularly…”

An hour or so later, CJ finally hung up, feeling a little bit better. But, despite the eager assurances from Abbey, and the e-mails from Donna, Charlie, and, for some reason, Debbie, CJ couldn’t bring herself to stop wondering about Kate. Instead of eating, she paced her room, twisting the wedding band on her finger as she chewed her lip. 

She and Kate had gotten married three years before, after she came back from a mission in Korea. In the four years they’d been dating before that, they’d never once even considered marriage. But when Kate came home with a new scar forming on her ribs, a new mark for CJ’s fingers to memorize, another way Kate could have lost her life, they decided to finally make things official. It was a small event- just a few people from their D.C. days, Los Angeles City Hall, and a couple bottles of champagne. It might not have been the most extravagant event in the world, but it was one of CJ’s favorite memories, and it played through her mind on repeat for the entire sleepless night. 

* * *

When CJ checked the mailbox Wednesday morning, she pulled out a thick stack of mail. Flipping through it, she tossed it onto the counter- a flyer for a Boy Scout sale, something with the seal of the CIA that was probably for Kate, some stuff from the bank, and a bunch of other junk. Sighing, she settled herself onto the couch and absently flicked through television channels, trying to avoid thinking about her wife. 

It was about noon when she picked the pile of letters back off the counter, shuffling through them to see what she actually needed to keep. Electric bill- keep; something from Honda- toss; no less than three credit card companies offering discounts- toss; a letter from Will Bailey… keep; an official-looking envelope with the CIA seal addressed to- CJ stopped. Why would the CIA be sending her a letter? It certainly wasn’t uncommon for Kate to get a letter from the CIA, but CJ? Not so much. 

Frowning, she walked into the kitchen, opening the envelope as she walked. Stopping in the middle of the room, she unfolded the thick, creamy paper and began reading. 

_Ms. Claudia Jean Cregg_  
_We at the Central Intelligence Agency regret to inform you that at **2247** hours on **6 August 2018** , an agent related to you, Agent **Kate Harper** was pronounced dead. We send our deepest condolences. Attached is a so-called “if I die” letter written by the agent in the event of their death..._

The letter went on to give limited information on what Kate had been doing, and how to go about making funeral arrangements, but CJ’s mind couldn’t focus. Her thoughts were a blur. Kate, Kate Harper, her Kate, her _wife_ , was dead- killed in action. It was noble, it was brave, it was… it was… 

CJ couldn’t even cry. She felt so hollow, empty… confused and unsure. Kate had been by her side since D.C.- as support when she married, and divorced, Danny Concannon, a friend when she moved around California, as a strong shoulder to lean on when she came out in her memoir, and eventually as her life partner, and wife. Nobody had ever been there for her so long, and CJ didn’t know how to go on without her- even if she could go on. 

Numbly, she unfolded the piece of notebook paper that had also been in the envelope. The familiar handwriting tugged up another ache in her chest, and CJ wiped her eyes before forcing herself to read.

_My dear Claudia Jean_  
_Obviously, if you’re reading this I’m… not coming home. I never would have wanted it this way. I mean, of course I wouldn’t have. I just wish I could have seen you again. Every time I’m away, I know how you worry and I hate doing that to you. You know that. I love you so much. Please, sweetheart, remember that. I love you I love you I love you._  
_Yours forever,_  
_Kate Harper_  
_P.S.- Call Toby._

Tears finally spilled over CJ’s cheeks, and she traced the tip of her finger over the words her wife had written, before re-reading the post-script: _Call Toby._ Sniffling, she smiled through her tears. Oh, how well Kate knew her… Wiping her eyes, she reached for her phone, dialing a number she hadn’t in years. 

_Never more to be alone when the letter said  
A soldier's coming home_

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this at 2 a.m. so please, if there are any mistakes, let me know. Please. Plus I was watching Madam Secretary and In Plain Sight, so I know that I typed the wrong name at _least_ once. Per paragraph. Also, my absolute apologies for killing Kate. And ruining my OTP. When I learn how to write good love stories, I will. Promise. Y'all deserve it.


End file.
